Gu Jingming's Gucci shoes stopped right in front of Shen Qingqian.
The tips gleamed with a deadly sharpness, catching the blinding chandelier lights like a silent warning:
There's nowhere to run.
Two gazes locked onto her in unison.
One was from the shadows of the second-floor balcony, cold as the edge of a blade, chilling her to the core.
The other—Gu Jingming's—swept over her shamelessly, his eyes crawling from head to toe, as though appraising a prized possession freshly acquired.
Shen Qingqian's breath hitched.
She knew. In this moment, she was both the prey and the hunter.
And the true hunt had just begun.
Play the role completely—that was the survival rule she'd learned five years ago.
Her shoulders trembled slightly, but she made sure the rest of her body betrayed no weakness. Slowly, she lifted her head. The tears on her cheeks were still fresh, her eyes bloodshot, fragile under the dazzling lights, as though one touch could shatter her.
"Mr. Gu…" Her voice cracked, each word forced out between clenched teeth, "I-I didn't mean to…"
Gu Jingming didn't respond.
Without warning, he leaned down, his fingers gripping her chin, the pressure almost bruising, brutal in its force.
It hurt.
Inside, Shen Qingqian sneered: Damn you. I wish I could bite that finger off.
But her eyes only widened, her pupils dilating in fear and helplessness, her body instinctively recoiling as though cornered—a perfect portrayal of a "scared waitress who made a mistake."
Gu Jingming's gaze lingered, moving over every inch of her face:
The reddened corners of her eyes, the trembling lashes, the white of her lip where she'd bitten herself…
Not a single detail escaped him.
"Interesting," he chuckled softly, his voice rough, "You're a gutsy little waitress."
The murmurs around them grew louder:
"Who's she? Daring to spill wine on Mr. Gu?"
"I bet it was intentional. She's trying to use this to climb the ranks."
"Shh… Don't say that, but… doesn't it look like Mr. Gu is… interested?"
The influencer standing next to him had already turned pale, her fingers digging into her palm, her eyes venomous as she glared at Shen Qingqian.
Shen Qingqian couldn't help but smirk internally: This is nothing. I've stepped on more mines than you've walked red carpets.
She shook her head desperately, tears streaming down her face: "No... I didn't… I really didn't…"
"Enough." Gu Jingming straightened, a sneer twisting at his lips. "This suit cost hundreds of thousands. You could sell yourself and still not cover it."
His voice dragged the last words, eyes locking onto hers, hot with disdain, "But... there's always another way to compensate."
Here it came.
The classic move, greasy and cliché.
Shen Qingqian lowered her gaze, feigning confusion and helplessness—like an innocent soul suddenly shoved into an abyss by fate.
Just then, the hotel manager squeezed into the scene, his face drenched in sweat, bowing repeatedly. "Mr. Gu! I'm so sorry! It's our fault! I'll fire her immediately and make it right!"
"Fire her?" Gu Jingming didn't even raise an eyebrow, his tone as cold as ice. "Did I ask you to speak?"
The manager froze, his smile instantly freezing, sweat dripping down his temples.
Gu Jingming ignored him, his gaze shifting back to Shen Qingqian, now possessive, almost predatory. "What's your name?"
"I… I'm Shen Qingqian…"
"Shen Qingqian?" He repeated the name slowly, as though savoring the taste of it. "Nice name."
He gave a subtle glance behind him.
In the blink of an eye, two men in black suits approached, grabbing her by the arms. She struggled symbolically, fingertips brushing their sleeves, but her resistance was weak—fragile, but not pitiful. Just enough.
"You're coming with me," Gu Jingming said, turning on his heel.
The crowd parted like a wave at his command, the very air bending to his presence.
Shen Qingqian was half-dragged, half-supported out of the ballroom, her heels clicking on the marble floor like the frantic beat of her heart.
Through the long corridor, she was ushered into a secluded lounge.
The door clicked shut, and the guards posted outside.
Silence filled the room, suffocating.
Shen Qingqian stood by the window, the moonlight casting shadows over her face as she massaged her sore chin. She could still feel the warmth of his touch, greasy and revolting.
Step one—complete.
Now, the truly disgusting part began.
Moments later, the door opened again.
Gu Jingming entered.
He had changed into a black silk shirt, the top buttons undone to reveal his collarbones and a glimpse of his chest, exuding a dangerous, languid charm.
He moved toward the bar, pouring himself a glass of amber whiskey, then leaned against the counter, his eyes locking onto hers like a predator sizing up his prey.
"Now," he drawled, "How do you plan to make it up to me?"
Shen Qingqian lowered her head, her fingers twisted in the fabric of her dress, knuckles white. Her voice was barely a whisper, fragile, "Mr. Gu… I don't have money… But I can work for you… I'll pay you back, I swear…"
"Work?" He scoffed, downing his drink in one go, "You're offering to work for me? You earn what? Three thousand? Five thousand a month? By the time you pay me back, your grandchild will be applying to Tsinghua University."
He set the glass down and took a step closer.
Shen Qingqian retreated instinctively, her back meeting the cold wall, her escape route blocked.
He reached out, bracing his palm against the wall beside her, trapping her in his shadow, his presence suffocating.
The scent of his cologne, mixed with alcohol, assaulted her senses, thick and heavy.
"I'll give you a choice," he leaned down, his lips almost brushing her ear, his voice low and commanding, "Easy, fast money—be mine."
Shen Qingqian shuddered, her eyes snapping open, filled with tears as her lips quivered. "No… I can't…"
His amusement deepened.
Gu Jingming enjoyed watching his prey struggle. It made the victory all the sweeter.
"No?" he sneered, gripping her chin again, this time harder, almost crushing her bones. "You think you have a choice? Shen Qingqian, when I want something, I always get it."
He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her skin. "Tonight, you will comply. Whether you like it or not. Don't make me take it from you."
The threat was clear in his voice.
Shen Qingqian knew—he had pushed her to the brink.
Any further, and it would be fake.
She closed her eyes, a single tear sliding down her cheek.
Gu Jingming's expression softened, a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes.
He let go, pulling out his phone, unlocking it and tossing it into her lap. "Save your number."
Shen Qingqian hesitated, trembling as she took the latest iPhone. Her fingers whitened as she input her number, dialing it.
Her old, battered phone vibrated in her pocket.
Gu Jingming glanced at the incoming call, nodding with satisfaction as he saved "Shen Qingqian" in his contacts.
"Tomorrow, I'll call. Don't pick up, or change your number…" He gave a mocking, lazy tap to her cheek, a humiliating gesture. "I'll find you, no matter where you go in Yun City."
With that, he turned and walked out, the door closing behind him with a finality that echoed through her.
The silence crashed back in, heavy and oppressive.
Shen Qingqian slumped against the wall, sliding slowly to the floor, her body trembling with the weight of the humiliation.
The tears, the fear, the submission—all faded as the door clicked shut.
She wiped her face with the back of her hand, scrubbing at his touch, over and over, as if trying to erase the stain he'd left.
Then, she pulled out the old phone, staring at the unfamiliar number on the screen.
Her lips curled into a cold, dangerous smile.
Gu Jingming.
You arrogant fool, you finally took the bait.
And that cold gaze from above...
She hadn't forgotten.
That person was the real wildcard tonight.
But she wasn't afraid.
This game? It was set for two players.
One to catch, and one to kill.